


What We Were Made For

by Staubengel



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/M, Getting Together, Human AU, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2019-10-09 10:37:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17405366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Staubengel/pseuds/Staubengel
Summary: Raven Sable is a very successful business man whose Newtrition Company is making him a fortune. One night, he encounters the most beautiful woman and discovers that maybe his business is not his only passion.---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------I'm a hardcore shipper of these three but no one provides me with fanfic, so I had to take matters into my own hands. This is a work in progress with no real idea where it will be heading, apart from the fact that the three of them will end up happily together.For that matter, I'm always up for suggestions and requests. Just leave them in the comments!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to fancykraken for beta-reading and for scorpling/bluethenstaub, who ships those three with me <33

They met at a gala the Newtrition Company was holding.

Raven Sable had poured his heart and soul into this company, right from the moment he had been old enough to think. “Food,” he had thought, “is essential, and if I invest in this branch, I will have a bright and secure future ahead of me.” He had been right with this, of course.

By now, he was 28 and the company was making him a fortune. He had started with ready meals when he was 20, had expanded to snacks and junk food at age 22, and had then launched a luxury product chain three years later that was going just as well as the cheaper products had. With all price sectors now covered, he had decided to move on to the next stage of the game.

Raven had researched food and nutrition his entire life, and he had published a book about it this year. The book had been PR for his new diet product, and it had worked fantastically. People had started reading it and had been convinced someone with that kind of knowledge had to make good food products. Celebrities had started trying out his diet plans. They were buying his brands. They were dropping his name when asked about their eating habits. There was no better PR than that. Everyone knew who Raven Sable was.

The gala tonight was there to remind people everyone knew who Raven Sable was. Celebrities were here, which made it interesting for the press and the common people. Owners of food brands and restaurant chains were here, which was interesting for Raven himself. He actually fancied opening up his own restaurant chain, he had discovered. Food was everywhere, so why shouldn’t he be?

The steep curve of his success showed that Raven knew what people wanted and how things were done, and that he was a smart, foresighted, and perfectly prepared man.

For Scarlett, however, nothing in the world could have prepared him.

She wore a long, red dress with a slit so high that every move she made promised a glimpse at her underwear, yet never actually gave in to that promise. It was tight around her upper body, clutching at her round hips and her full breasts, and it was shoulder-free, showing her arms. They were not broad, her shoulders, and her arms only partly defined, but you could tell they were strong, something tensing underneath her skin with every movement.

Her hair reached down to her waist in long, auburn tresses and she was so flawlessly beautiful that all the celebrities in the room put together would not have reached up to her level had they the nerve to try. 

Raven was enchanted the moment he looked at her.

Every person in the room was enchanted by her, granted. It didn’t matter what gender or sexuality you had: This woman could have you if she wanted to, and you knew it. She accumulated attention like a magnet, pulled every gaze and stare her way. Something about her was magical, and she was very aware of that fact, you could tell.

Now, most of the people were enchanted by her in a way that either scared them, made them blush and would never allow them to even think about getting anywhere near her. Or in a way that made them swarm her like annoying flies, trying to get some attention back from her, too big-headed and intrusive to actually make it work. She played with the last kind of person, like a cat with her prey; let them come to her, praise her, granted them a smile – only to cut their heart out with a snide remark or a complete lack of response a moment later. It was fascinating to watch her.

Raven wasn’t afraid of people. He never had been, not even as a child. But he wasn’t that kind of person either that is so self-assured they won’t expect to get ‘no’ for an answer and think they can allow themselves everything, succeed in everything. So his enchantment didn’t cause him to run either from, nor to her. He simply stood and watched until he caught her eye. Then he smiled at her and she smiled back at him.

On his way over to her, he grabbed two champagne glasses from the serving tray of a waiter and held one out to her as he arrived. She took it with another smile and sipped it. The sparkling seemed to go straight to her eyes and make them twinkle, a fierce brown so light and harsh it appeared orange. Raven was tall, so she had to look up, but everything about her seemed like she was looking down at him instead.

“My name is Scarlett,” she said. Her voice was like velvet, but with something sharp in it, ready to cut you if you got careless. “Thanks for the drink.”

“You’re very welcome,” Raven replied. “I’m Raven Sable.”

She raised her perfect eyebrows in mock surprise, curving her lips inwards after another sip of her beverage.

“Raven Sable,” she purred, and he liked the way she said his name. If she told you to, you would set yourself on fire. “Then this whole shebang is your doing, isn’t it?”

He smirked, amused by the way she talked. Every word she said was calculated, every gesture on point. This woman could run the world if she wanted to, but had obviously more fun messing around with people directly.

He nodded. “It is indeed,” he confirmed. “I’m glad you could make it here.”

Her smile looked like she was equally amused by him.

“I didn’t get an invitation,” she said, not sounding reproachful but rather challenging, “but I thought I would come anyway. I want to interview you. I’m a reporter.”

“Then you didn’t get an invitation because I didn’t allow reporters to come,” he explained. “This is a party for my guests, not for all the people who aren’t here and want to read about it in a newspaper.”

She clicked her tongue and cocked her head. A red-painted fingernail tapped against her glass of champagne.

“I don’t want to tell people about this party,” she said. “I want to ask you things you would never tell another person and I will get an answer to them. I can make people answer everything, even questions they hope never to get asked. That’s why I am the best reporter in the world. And you, Mister Sable, are my new target.”

Something flickered in her eyes as she said this, something that was her true self, lurking behind the mask of the fierce but playful  _Femme Fatale_ .

That Real Her enchanted Raven even more.

“I’m sure you can,” he responded. He took a sip of his own champagne.

She studied him with her burning eyes, the corners of her mouth ever so slightly twitching into a smile.

“I get everything I want,” she finally told him. “No matter what it is.”

“And right now you want my interview?” he guessed.

“You,” she corrected him. “Right now, I want you.”

Raven’s smile grew wider.

Scarlett knew how to get what she wanted, for sure. But she was not the kind of person who would go out of her way to get it. She wouldn’t sleep with anyone to get them where she needed them. She wouldn’t even touch them. She didn’t have to. She could make you do things without even looking at you if she wanted. So Raven knew this was not a move to get him to spill his guts for her.

“Then I assume my fate is settled,” he said and took another sip of his champagne. She grinned at him, both amused and satisfied.

Her dress rustled as she stepped closer, her body almost touching his. “I don’t think you understand, Raven Sable,” she whispered. Her breath smelled sweet and spicy at the same time, like cinnamon. “I said I want you  _right now._ ”

Raven raised his brows with a surprised smile.

Oh, he often got offers like this one, no question. He was famous by now, and on top of that smart and good-looking. He could have had pretty much every model in town – to most of them, he was like a god. But this woman wasn’t like all of the rest. Her invitation was one you couldn’t decline.

He reached for her glass and pulled it out of her hand. She watched him attentively as he put both their glasses down on the counter they had been standing by, and then studied the slim, dark hand he was offering her. Before she took it, she smiled at him self-consciously.

Raven’s grandmother had taught him three things:

1) How to cook

2) To never give up on your Dreams

and 3) How to treat a woman.

She was 72 by now and he still paid her more respect than any influential businessman he had ever encountered.

Taking a woman to the ladies’ restroom to have her up against a wall certainly wasn’t what his grandma had taught him. His grandma, however, also had never met Scarlett, and if what a woman demanded was sex inside a bathroom stall, then who was Raven to decline her that wish?

The establishment Raven had rented for his gala was exactly what he admired in question of style: It was minimalist, sleek, and black. The restrooms were more clean and stylish than other people’s kitchen, with black tiles and far too many mirrors, and the stinging scent of citrus detergent. 

Raven – who is, as has been mentioned, an intelligent man – had made sure to let the staff open up all four of the restrooms this evening, and had them assign three of them to the ladies and only one to the gents. He didn’t know what it was about women and restrooms, but he didn’t have to understand it to adapt to it.

Given that 36 stalls were now at the ladies’ disposal, the lines in front of the restrooms were short. Scarlett directed him to the restroom with no line in front of it at all, dragging him inside. She was like a fire that played nicely as long as it wanted to, but now had decided to go rogue in the breeze, and all the self-control and composure had been switched off. She was all her raw and demanding self now, a whirlwind of sparks and flames, the moment the door had closed behind them.

Raven still was not afraid of people. He knew some men were intimidated by strong women, by the loss of power and control and dominance, and they would have found their ultimate demise in Scarlett. Raven wasn’t. He indulged in it happily.

She swirled around to him as they entered the restroom, slung her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. She also tasted like cinnamon, sweet on the edge but hot in full, and her mouth was as addicting as the most exquisite drug.

They shoved and dragged and stumbled each other into a free stall (black walls, self-cleaning toilet) and Raven slammed the door shut, locking it with an easy motion. Scarlett was already fumbling open his trousers and he quickly assisted by finally reaching through that inviting slit in her dress and tearing down her underwear.

When he lifted her up, she grabbed for the edge of the stall wall above her head and held onto it with her strong arms. Entering her felt like diving into silk, and the gasp that escaped her lips was the sweetest sound Raven had ever heard.

He held her safely as he pounded into her, fast and hard and steady, biting her neck or her lips when she brought them close enough, tasting her moans and her gasping. She was vicious, even pinned against the wall, but that satisfied Raven in a way so deeply he had never even imagined possible.

Their rhythm matched perfectly, and they both came hard and heavy, Scarlett rearing off the wall with a scream and Raven tossing himself against her with a deep, long groan. When he looked up at her, bangs of his hair falling over his forehead, she looked back at him with flushed cheeks and a fever in her eyes that this intermezzo had not satisfied, but barely even stirred.

She grinned and softly stroked his undercut back into shape. “I think I will keep you,” she stated, and it sounded less like a threat and more like a promise. “I think I want your dark secrets all to myself instead.”

He chuckled and kissed her on the cheek before he stepped back and gently let her glide to her feet again. Then he got a tissue out of his pocket and produced a thin, black pen.

_326-4630_ he wrote on the tissue.

Then he passed it to Scarlett.

“That’s my strictly personal number, in case we lose each other,” he said and put away the pen. “So strictly personal, not even I myself would call me on that one.”

She chuckled. “I don’t intend to let you out of my sight,” she told him, but she pocketed the number anyway. “Wait in front of the door, I need a moment to fix myself up. You guys have it easier there, as per fucking usual.”

Raven laughed. There was the Real Her again that he liked so much, not playing and pretending but open and raw, a blade not swirled through in the air for a show, but cutting and slicing just as it pleased.

He kissed her on the hair this time and then left their stall, meeting the surprised eyes of two ladies checking their make-up in front of the mirror. He winked at them as he walked to the door, and only straightened his own disarranged hair and clothes while he was waiting outside for Scarlett.

She smiled at him when she stepped outside, not a hair out of place. When he offered her his arm, her smile widened and she took it.

“You know, most people don’t treat me like that,” she said as they went back to mingle with the crowd.

“Like what?” Raven asked.

“Decent. They are either scared of me or want to impress me. They don’t want to make me comfortable for my sake, but to prove that they can do it. You’re different. You actually care.”

Raven hummed. “We’re very much alike you and I, are you aware of that?” he wanted to know.

“How?”

“We both can tell what people want and how to give it to them.”

“People want over-priced diet products?”

Raven chuckled. “They want to be told,” he said, “that their wellness is worth being taken care of. That they are a luxury and they should treat themselves to feeling well. Cheap products tell them ‘you’re fat and you need to change that’. Nobody wants to be told that.”

“Hmmm,” Scarlett said. “What would you tell _me_ then, Raven Sable?”

Raven smiled again and nodded to somebody he briefly knew. “You, my dear Scarlett,” he replied, “I wouldn’t need to tell anything.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one is a little shorter, and also un-betad.  
> Next chapter will be up soon, though <3  
> Like I said, I have no plan where this fic is going, I just want to write about these three, so if you have any ideas, suggestions, prompts, or wishes, send them my way :)

Scarlett came home with Raven that night. On their way to his penthouse apartment, they had another round of sex on the backseat of the slimline black limousine.

It was less hasty this time, but not less sensual, and certainly not less overwhelming. Scarlett’s high-heel left a mark on the roof of the cabin, just as her nails left a mark on Raven’s shoulder blade, and his own hand left an impression on the window at one point.

They almost had another round in the elevator to his apartment, but managed to actually make it into the apartment in the end, where they left their clothes scattered on the entire way to the bedroom and stopped on and against a few surfaces before they finally ended up on the mattress.

It was the most glorious night Raven had ever had.

He had been to parties – some of them held by himself, some of them held by other important people – and a few of them had been so extravagant that The Great Gatsby would have been proud of the host. He’d had sex with some beautiful people – sometimes more than one person at a time. A couple of times, both events had taken place simultaneously. But never, in his entire life, had he encountered someone close to Scarlett.

She enlivened a part of him he hadn’t known to be there, and he felt more alive than he had known was possible. Had you asked Raven Sable if he was a content man before this gala, he would have grinned at you and would have told you that he was doing fantastic, and it would not have been a lie. But Scarlett had turned on the colour on the black-and-white television of his life, or rather – speaking in metaphors closer to Raven’s reality – had added some spice to his bland, never even salted before food palette. His existence was suddenly on a whole new level.

When light started to filter in through the curtains, the two of them were still awake, lying next to each other in the mess they had made of Raven’s black silken sheets. Scarlett’s copper curls lay splayed around her like wavy bits of fire, looking like burning lava on the black volcano earth of the bedsheets. The same fire was still burning in her eyes, but it was dimmer now, only smouldering and waiting for a chance to flare up again.

Raven was playing with one of the strands, wrapping it around his mocha-coloured finger. She was smiling lazily, watching him. The early morning light was casting her naked body in a warm and golden glow.

“It’s funny,” she said, and her voice sounded rough from all the moaning and screaming and the sleep that she was lacking. “Even without having asked you any questions, I think I know more of your secrets than anyone will ever know.”

Raven smiled back, a bit of a grin on the edges, and let the silky curl slip away from his finger.

“You most certainly do,” he confirmed, and then he leaned in to chase a kiss away from her lips before he sat up. “How do you like your breakfast?”

Scarlett grinned and rolled onto her back, displaying herself sinfully with an arched spine and lazy fingers stroking through her own hair.

“In bed,” she purred. “Naked, preferably. Served on a hot and twitching body.”

Raven chuckled. “I’ll make you something,” he offered. “It will take a moment. Depending on the state you’re in when it’s finished, I will either serve it to you on the kitchen counter, on the sofa in the lounge, in bed, or will keep it warm for you in the oven. Does that sound about alright?”

Scarlett smiled now, and this time it was not teasing or playful, but a real and tender smile.

“Yes, that sounds about alright,” she said and let her body drop into a more comfortable position.

“Good. If you need them, towels are in the bathroom closet.”

He gave her another chaste kiss and then got out of bed. He definitely needed a shower himself, but breakfast came first.

Raven loved everything slim and black, but his food supplies never ran thin. The products he sold weren’t always of the finest or the most healthy ingredients – he used his knowledge about nutrition to make products people wanted to buy, and, in most cases, people wanted to buy something that tasted good for a low price. But he had what it took to make really good food and in his own case, that was what he wanted. And so he made sure to regularly prepare his own meals, and, sometimes, the ones for his companions.

He heard the water in the bathroom run while he pottered around in the kitchen in his underwear, and, finally, Scarlett came into the lounge, wearing what seemed to be his shorts and shirt, a towel wrapped around her hair. Even when she wasn’t aiming to seduce, tempt, or fascinate people, she did everything of that, just by the way she was. Raven smiled at her as he carried her breakfast to the coffee table on a tray.

She smiled back at him thankfully and reached for the coffee mug, taking a big sip from it without adding milk or sugar to it. Then she inspected the artfully arranged and daringly composed food on the plate and poked at it with her fork.

“You don’t just sell food, huh?” she asked.

Raven smiled again and shook his head. “I hope you’ll like it,” he said. “If not, feel free to order something in.”

“If Raven Sable’s food is bad, you can be sure I’ll write an article about it,” she teased and stabbed her breakfast.

Raven chuckled softly and then made his way over to the bathroom, to have a shower and get dressed. Scarlett had put on his best available shirt, so he had to do with second-best.

When he returned to the living room, Scarlett was watching the news on his flat-screen television while still munching on the food he had made her. She smiled at him, and when he came over and pressed a kiss into the towel on her head, she leaned into it softly.

“You have to go?” she asked. “Or do you always run around like this in your apartment?”

He chuckled and shook his head, reaching into his pocket.

“Sadly, I have an important meeting to attend to,” he told her. “But if you would do me the honour, I will invite you to have dinner with me.”

She hummed, a smirk on her lips, and swayed her head to signal him she would think about it, while actually already knowing the answer.

He smirked back and pulled his hand out of his pocket. “Until then,” he said and held out a card to her, “feel free to stay as long as you like.”

She studied the card with two raised eyebrows.

“If you put that on the scanner in the elevator, it will take you right up to my apartment,” he instructed her. “And the code 25225 will open the doors.”

“You’re giving me the key to your apartment?” she asked incredulously. “Who says I won’t rob you or let a bunch of criminals in here that will hack your system and sell important data about your company on the black market?”

He laughed softly and dropped the card on the table. “I’ll risk it,” he said. “If I weigh all that against the possibility of having you return to my apartment, the scales will tip to your advantage.”

Scarlett smiled at him again, that open, honest, warm, happy smile, that he was sure only few people had seen before him. When she said, “My plan is working, then,” it didn’t even sound teasing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realised I had this chapter lying around for ages and never posted it??  
> It's short, but anyway!  
> Here you go! :)

“You left her your credit card?!”

“Whatever she plans on doing today, she will need money for it.”

“How about she uses her _own_ money for it?!”

“I’m the one who invited her to my place, I’ll be the one paying for her needs while she’s there. Or wants to get home from there. She’s my guest.”

“She’s your one-night-stand, Raven!”

Raven smiled fondly. “Only if I’m unlucky,” he said.

He hadn’t left her his credit card to bribe Scarlett or to lure her into staying. He really thought it was the decent thing to do. Maybe she wanted to get home from his place and would need to pay for a taxi – as women like Scarlett did not ride public transport. Or she wanted to stay and would like to order in lunch. Or she would go out for lunch in some fancy restaurant. She might get some new clothes while she was at it. Women like Scarlett didn’t wear the same thing twice in a row, either.

“You shouldn’t trust people so easily,” his assistant scolded.

Raven sighed with a smile and shook his head. “Where would I be without you, Frannie?” he said and pulled the empty styrofoam cup from her fingers, handing her a new one. Like every good assistant, Frannie was addicted to caffeine.

His comment made her smile a little.

“Do you want me to google her?” she offered. “Find out what kind of person she is?”

“No,” Raven determined. “Firstly, she’s not the kind of person to tell people what kind of person she is online. And secondly, she will let me find out what I’m supposed to find out on her own.”

Frannie wrinkled her nose, but didn’t say anything to that. She just kept scrolling through her phone and took a sip of her new coffee (that she’d had to pay for on her own today, because Raven had given away his credit card).

He was sure she would google Scarlett anyway. He was also sure that she wouldn’t find anything about her anywhere.

  


“Scarlett C. Zuigiber,” Frannie announced triumphantly, looking at her tablet. “Reporter and journalist for the _National World Weekly_. Their most prized possession, you could say. Every article she can’t publish, she posts on her own blog. Which is interesting, because her articles in the _National World Weekly_ are mostly shallow wish-wash about gossip and social squabbles – something you would expect from the _National World Weekly_ , which is just a teen magazine for grown-ups, if you ask me – while the articles on her blog contain highly complex debates about politics, as well as national and international conflicts, no matter which time period or area. Which makes me wonder why she’s writing cheap articles for such a local rag in the first place. Seems really weird to me, to be honest.”

She wrinkled her nose again like she always did when she was displeased by something, and took a sip from her coffee. Raven only smiled at her monologue.

Frannie was the best assistant anyone could have. She thought of things no one else in the company thought of, and while you were still thinking about them yourself, she had already planned everything necessary to get them on the way. She had a very solid protective instinct as well – both for the company and for Raven. It was her job, of course, and he paid her well for it. But sometimes, she was a little over-enthusiastic.

“I will ask her if you want to,” he suggested and pulled the coffee away from her to hand her a bottle of water instead. He wasn’t as protective as she was, but he _was_ a nutrition expert, and too much caffeine wasn’t good for anyone.

“You won’t get the chance, because she’ll have absconded with all your objects of value by now, and is probably writing an article for the _National World Weekly_ about it right this second.”

Raven shook his head with a little laugh. “I’ll head home and find out now,” he announced. “Unless you found anything else on your tablet that you desperately want to share with me.”

“The _Body Business_ has dropped 4% at the stock exchange,” Frannie informed him dryly.

Raven smiled and shook his head again. “See you tomorrow, Frannie,” he said and got up from his chair. “Don’t forget to stop working any time soon, okay? And don’t touch another cup of coffee for the next 12 hours.”

“Call me when you need me to contact a lawyer about your stolen stuff,” was all that Frannie replied to that.

Still smiling about her pragmatism, Raven downed the coffee he had taken away from her on the way to the elevator, and climbed into the limousine to let his chauffeur drive him back home.

**Author's Note:**

> Suggestions? Prompts? Ideas? Send them my way! Can be anything from "can you write smut with this kink in it" to "can you write them meeting Sable's grandma". When I can fit it in, I'll write it!


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